


The Workaholic

by derireo



Series: the good ol' days [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derireo/pseuds/derireo
Summary: There was a reason why Izumi worked so hard.A look into Izumi's self-worth and repressed memories.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru & Tachibana Izumi, Tachibana Izumi & Takatoo Tasuku, Tachibana Izumi & Tsukioka Tsumugi
Series: the good ol' days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021798
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	The Workaholic

**Author's Note:**

> kinda sad. worked on this months ago but couldn't conclude the ending. this story has around three parts (if i ever get to finishing them) and can be connected to my same age troupe series, but doesn't have to be.

Izumi didn't really like staying at home anymore.

Not after her dad left and her mom had to start juggling more jobs in order for them to have a few meals a week while on top of that paying for their bills.

She'd stay a little longer at school, hang around the lonely alleyways and shortcuts that ran along the neighbourhood, sit inside convenience stores until evening.

Just so that she wouldn't have to go back to an empty home.

Her passion for the things she used to love died out too, and she eventually quit her extracurriculars, including her theater class.

She was grateful that she learned how to care for herself when she was young, but it was tiring. She didn't have enough clothes to wash when her mom rarely came home. There was no point in using the dishes if she was the only one eating. And if it meant saving more money, she wouldn't even turn the lights on in any of the rooms. Not even the washroom.

There were very few times when her mom would be able to spend the night at home with her, but again, there were few.

Izumi wanted to feel happy, seeing her mom's face, but it was hard when she always looked so tired. So angry.

They rarely talked when her mom was home, but Izumi would still cook her dinner and clean her room before she'd tuck in for the night.

And there were just some times when Izumi didn't want to be in her presence at all.

"You never do anything in this house." Her mom said one night in passing as Izumi was gathering their empty bowls.

The sentence caught Izumi off guard, making her pause in her ministrations. She looked up from the table to look at her mom in curiosity, and was met with an aggravated frown.

"All you do is stay out late and eat all the food that I work hard to put on the table." She complained quietly, tapping her finger against the wood that they sat at. "I don't recall you ever doing anything for this house."

"Mom, I–" Izumi's laugh was one out of pure disbelief, but her mother didn't let her finish.

"You're so useless.. You do nothing all day and complain about school and how you're always tired. _You don't do anything_. I'm the one working three jobs, for Chrissake." Her mom laughed in turn and ran a hand through her hair, standing up from the table with an exhausted shake of her head.

"I have work tomorrow. I'm leaving at four." She finished, standing to leave for her room. "Ungrateful brat."

And well; Izumi couldn't really say anything anyways. She took in a breath and made her way to the sink after she heard a door shut, a cold chill slowly running up her spine.

Her mom wasn't wrong. She wished she could do more, really.

* * *

"Welcome! Is this a job application?" A middle aged man bowed towards Izumi who held a neat folder for him to take, nodding her head to answer his question.

He opened the folder as Izumi clutched the strap to her schoolbag tightly. The man squinted at the few things on her resume and scratched his neck, offering Izumi an uneasy smile when he handed the file of papers back to her.

"You have all the traits we're looking for in a new employee," he said kindly, "but I fear you're too young for me to hire. I couldn't give you night shifts and graveyard like you asked anyway."

Izumi sighed, having already known the outcome. But she just couldn't let it go.

"I need this job." She said quietly, bunching the strap she held in her hand with a death grip. "I want to help ease my mom's burden." 

And as much as she didn't want to use the guilt card, she really wanted the job. If it gave her an excuse not to be home, she'd gladly take it.

There was a frown, a pinch of the nose, and a sigh.

Suddenly, Izumi was being asked for her folder again and she quickly gave it back, her sad, doe eyes slowly regaining a bit of light.

"I'll send an email if I manage to get you the job." The middle aged man sighed once more, waving off a surprised Izumi who nearly shouted. "..Now go home."

"Thank you, Mister!" She saluted, regaining some newfound energy she never knew she had.

And with that, for the first time in months, did she go home before sunset.

She got the email a few days later during class. She was opening and closing her fliphone with a bored expression on her face as her teacher went to explain the difference between kanji and hiragana.

> ** _From_** : _xxxxx.@gmail.jp –_ _I got you the job. Training starts next week at 4pm._

Izumi almost shouted. _Almost._

What she _did_ do was drop her phone in surprise, her legs jolting up and clambering against her desk. The loud noise obviously disturbed everyone around her and she floundered when her teacher glared.

"Something interesting happening over there, Tachibana?" He grouched with a frown, to which the classmates around her either giggled or whispered as she fumbled to grab her phone from the floor.

Her smile was elated, but at the same time panicked, and she shook her head in denial. Shoving her phone into her skirt pocket (that she had to sew in herself), Izumi straightened her tie.

"No, Sir. Just a rat startling me."

And like many other times, Izumi was the starter of chaos, everyone in the room beginning to panic at the idea of having a real _rat_ inside of the school.

The class ended with all of the desks in disarray, and a flustered Izumi bowing in apology to her teacher who had his arms crossed.

* * *

And Izumi absolutely _loved_ her job. Although it was busy on weekdays because students would visit after school, she loved the rush; she loved feeling like she was _doing_ something.

She loved the feeling of being useful.

Time would fly by as if she was only working for an hour so; sometimes she wouldn't even want to leave once the next worker would come in for their shift.

She was a fast learner too, and her manager, that middle aged man, would watch with an impressed expression on his face.

Graveyard shift was another thing, but if it meant Izumi wouldn't have to be stuck home alone with her thoughts, she'd take any day they had to offer.

It was a boring shift, usually receiving visits from overworked business men or the occasional drunkard who needed something to sober up.

There were a few times where she'd have customers who were around her age; kind of odd, but at the same time not really.

There was one guy her age who would visit at around midnight to three in the morning, and a duo that would come by at six-thirty sharp.

"Energy drinks again? _Chigasaki-san_." She would scold the boy who donned a pair of glasses and their school's tracksuit.

His visit was always quick, and he never opened his mouth to speak to her after the night he introduced himself that one time.

"I see Takato-san has dragged you out again." She would comment when the two boys would stalk in; the taller one buying water bottles while the blue haired one would eat a breakfast snack.

The interesting thing with this duo was that, the blue haired boy would stay inside and accompany Izumi while the other would perform his daily morning jog; something that the young girl found distasteful.

"Are you sure you'll be okay going to school?" The boy would ask her every day he visited. He found out that when Izumi did graveyard shifts on a Sunday or weekday, she would head to school right after, not even bothering to take a nap or a break.

And to put the blue haired boy's mind to rest, the other friend would walk in; barely having broken a sweat: "We can walk her there. Let's go." 

And this duo– she thought she would forever be grateful for them. They took care of her whenever she was barely able to herself; walking her home after they finished their classes at their own school and helping her with her assignments before forcing her to go to sleep on the days she didn't have graveyard.

But the thing was, when she met those three again while trying to revive the theatre her father left neglected, she didn't seem to remember any of them.

Meeting Itaru Chigasaki again was like meeting him for the first time, and he was surprised, but at the same time not. With how often he visited her konbini back then, maybe he would have stuck in her subconscious, but, maybe not. He didn't try to make conversation with her back then anyways so he couldn't blame Izumi for anything.

Meeting Tasuku Takato and Tsumugi Tsukioka again was much the same for her. 

Tsumugi was devastated that she couldn't remember them, and Tasuku, annoyed.

"Oh. I don't really remember anything that happened during my high school days." Izumi had said in passing one afternoon when Muku asked her if she had experienced anything similar to the story of Ouran High School Host Club.

There was an incredulous gasp from Muku, saying that it shouldn't be possible. High school was probably a significant time in your life when you were still young!

"I just remember working and studying a lot. And I rarely stayed at home?" She answered him with a question and frowned, scratching her head. "It kept me busy because the house was always empty and I had nothing better to do."

" _Eh_? So then how did you get back into theatre?" Tenma asked from his side of the couch, squinting at Izumi through the sunglasses he didn't bother taking off after coming home.

"When Sakyo gave me no other choice but to save the company."

"But there was also the letter that Matsukawa sent, right?" Sakuya piped up, tilting his head. "I feel we would have been in a lot of trouble if she never got it."

"Yeah, I don't even remember what I was doing before I got that letter, honestly. It had nothing to do with theatre that's for sure." Izumi scratched her cheek.

Speechless, Tasuku plopped himself down in the chair that sat beside Izumi's side of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do you remember _anything_ between the ages of fifteen and nineteen?" He inquired, frown etched onto his face as both he and Tsumugi shot each other a look from either side of the room.

Itaru chewed at his granola bar with an unreadable expression on his face, but secretly anticipated Izumi's answer just like everyone else.

"Not really." She responded slowly, looking over at the man who sat beside her. Tasuku huffed out a breath; already giving up on receiving a satisfying answer.

"Do you remember any friends from high school?" Tsumugi inquired next, resulting in an excitable nod from Muku who had regained his energy.

Izumi frowned.

"I didn't have any."

Itaru sighed; feeling like they were going nowhere with all of this nonsense and beating around the bush.

"Yes you did." The blond argued albeit not as aggressive as he wanted to.

He couldn't be upset or annoyed when he didn't even try to become friends with her back then. He recalled the many nights he ignored her after their first meeting, never looking into her eyes as she tried to start a conversation with him.

But even if _he_ wasn't her friend, he at least knew that Tasuku and Tsumugi were. He'd see them walk her to school every single morning and watch as they'd tentatively walk away as Izumi got scolded for the umpteenth time for arriving so late.

Izumi fell silent at Itaru's response and awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest; becoming defensive at his tone.

"How would _you_ know?" She tried to keep her voice level, but she sounded small and embarrassed.

Tenma, Muku, and Sakuya began to frown at this new side of the director.

Tsumugi decided to pipe up at this time, eager to let the attention on the director snap towards him.

He gripped at his wristwatch with meekness riddling his features as he spoke. "Tasuku and I were your best friends in high school."

And then the lounge room went silent.

Tasuku visibly relaxed in his seat once the cat was out of the bag, and the three younger members with them whipped their heads to look between the Winter Pair in shock.

Izumi's face warmed.

"That isn't right." She shook her head and shrunk into the couch; still in disbelief. If that were the case, she wouldn't have said she didn't have any friends in the first place.

She wasn't exactly the best person to be around in high school and she always struggled to be interesting. How could she have friends when all she did was work, work, _work?_

How could she have friends when it felt like she'd been alone her whole life?

It...didn't make sense.

Not to Izumi at least.

"I didn't have time to make friends." She murmured, wrapping her arms around herself to get rid of the sad chill that crawled up her arms. "And the ones I had before left me when I quit theatre."

Tasuku pinched his nose between his fingers while Itaru flipped his phone in his hand several times, Tsumugi watching the gears turn in Izumi's head only to end up with them stuttering and breaking down.

Was she only remembering the bad things? Or was she repressing memories that she didn't want to remember?

...Did she _want_ to forget _them?_

Tsumugi anxiously tapped his fingers against his knee. "You don't remember us."

"I don't think I've ever seen you two before I came to Veludo." Izumi twisted her fingers in the fabric of her sleeves. "Itaru made it sound like we knew each other too which is weird."

To Tsumugi it seemed like her brain was refusing access to this specific part of her life; the memories so heavily blocked that she couldn't retrieve them. Couldn't remember them.

Her high school days were so bad that she grew to learn how to send them all the way to the back of her mind; never to be seen again.

It was like she was experiencing repressed memory...

And, well, Tsumugi understood the severity of _that_ at the very least.

Tasuku and Itaru on the other hand couldn't understand.

They couldn't find themselves to.

"I don't think there's a point to this conversation anymore." The violet eyed man resigned with a hint of aggravation swirling around his tone.

It looked like he was seething from where he sat beside Izumi, strong arms curled around his chest as his glaring eyes stared at Tsumugi who had an expression full of sadness.

"If it was _that_ easy to forget us after all those years spent together then I don't want to hear anymore of this."

Tsumugi could feel the hairs on his arm stand at the icy tone lacing Tasuku's voice.

"Just let her explain why—"

" _Why?_ Why _what?_ " Tasuku tittered. His blood was starting to boil; he could feel the steam coming out of his ears.

It was unfair. Along with Tsumugi he spent four years taking care of Izumi only for her to forget them? Those early mornings and late nights they spent with her to make sure she was staying alive wasn't enough to have them ingrained in her brain?

She was ungrateful enough to forget all they had done for her? Feed her meals, keep her company, help her forget that she was _alone?_

She was like family to them. Was it not the same for her?

If she left the company, would she forget them a second time?

They never knew where she went after graduation.

"She was barely able to do anything back then. Who helped her pass sciences, math, and the like? Who helped her in literature? Comprehension?" Tasuku listed off angrily, unable to notice the way Izumi was shrinking in her seat while at the same time staring off into space.

It was like her ears were filled with cotton.

"Who carried her home every single night when she was barely able to stand from exhaustion? Who fed her meals to make sure she wasn't _starving?_ " The Winter Troupe member continued, vision going red with anger as he remembered all of the times a limp Izumi would hang off his back.

Remembered the tears that would stain the back of his uniform.

He shook his head.

"I've never met someone so damn ungrateful. She would've been useless without us, Tsumugi." The exasperation in his voice was clear.

Izumi pursed her lips, ears picking up the words like she was resurfacing from a huge body of water.

" _Tasuku_." Tsumugi scolded—

_Useless_. Izumi mused.

His anger was understandable. If what all that Tasuku had said was true, she couldn't blame the betrayal and hurt they felt.

But as much as she wanted to remember, she couldn't pick anything up from her high school days.

What else could she remember other than the feeling of coming back to an empty home and a mother who ignored her existence?

...Tasuku was _right_.

But it still hurt.

She tried to ignore the words Tasuku was spewing in order to save herself, but it was futile.

She was useless for not being able to remember.

She was useless for not doing anything.

Useless for doing everything she could and it _still_ not being enough.

What even was considered enough?

_Stop thinking_.

The empty house. The molding walls. The lonely bed.

Her _mother_ —

_Fuck! Just snap out of it._

"Er...Sorry." She laughed to cover up the fact that she was on the verge of tears. She shook as she struggled to get off the couch. Her sudden apology made Tasuku stiffen as Tsumugi and Itaru watched their director with shocked expressions.

The weight of the situation suddenly felt real. _Very real_.

Should— should they look away? Tenma, Muku, and Sakuya had already left once Tasuku went on his mini rampage because they were terrified of what was to come.

So it was only the four adults left.

"I just remembered something." She pointed her thumb behind her in the direction of the hallway, smiling as she did so. "I'm backstage crew for this theatre's rehearsal tonight, so... I have to go get ready."

She bowed deeply to the three men who sat there in stunned silence, profusely bending her body so that she wouldn't show her face as she backed away, only swiftly turning around when she reached the hallway.

"I'll offer her a ride." Itaru spoke up after a good minute of silence and stood up from his spot on the couch.

Silence blanketed the lounge room like a cloud wrapping around an airplane once the blonde left to grab his keys from mini table beside the stairs.

Tasuku brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe away the stress that was riddling his features.

The rattle of Izumi's own keys were heard down the hallway, footsteps rushed as papers rustled in her hands while she bolted towards the stairs.

"Izumi, I can drive—" Itaru murmured once her hand reached the railing of the stairs, but was interrupted by her wavering voice.

"I don't need it. I'll be fine." She laughed a little, just to ease Itaru's worries if he had any but refused to look him in the eye as she walked down the stairs. "I'll call, if anything." 

Itaru twirled his keys back into his palm and cleared his throat. _Yeah, that's fine._

"Stay safe." He called out in his soft spoken voice.

"Yeah." Came her response, then the sound of the front door slamming shut.

He shuffled towards the kitchen window not too long after, to see Izumi sprinting down the street with a teary grimace.

_Huh_. He recalled a time when he came across a similar expression up on the school's rooftop.

But he had left her there just as quick as he had come.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! c: find me at ginjeo on twt or derireo on tumblr!


End file.
